Rj01225955 -

And from the speaker of his disconnected, unplugged, battery-dead office landline, a voice that hadn't spoken aloud in twenty-seven years whispered:

"Hello? Is this thing on?"

He didn't sleep that night. Or the next. And every morning at 6:42, when he raised his yellow mug to his lips, he felt two unseen eyes watching from the space between packets—patient, eternal, and finally home . rj01225955